Avengers vs Aunt Flow
by Pandiichan
Summary: How will a team of superheroes handle the "monthly gift" bestowed upon the females in their lives? Some do better than others. Most are furiously, quitely praying to survive. Clint may have quoted Dante's Inferno and said, "Abandon all hope ye who enter here." Second: Liberty Ramsey - fatigue. Victim: Steve Rogers. M for safety.
1. Pepper Potts: Bloating

Avengers vs. Aunt Flow

* * *

_Patient List:_

_Pepper Potts: Bloating (victim: Tony) - Scheduled_

_Liberty Ramsey: Fatigue (victim: Steve)_

_Coriander Henson: Bleeding (victim: Bruce/Hulk)_

_Natasha Romanoff: Mood Swings (Angry) (victim: Everyone. Mainly Clint.)_

_Agent Hill: Mood Swings (Sad) (victim: Fury/Coulson)_

_Jane Foster: Lack of coordination (victim: Mostly Jane. Thor by default.)_

_(submitted character) Lyra Jenkins: Headaches/social withdrawal (victim: Loki and Fandral) - Maymayliu_

_(submitted character) Constance Grisham: Cramps (victim: Bruce Banner) – HinataElyonToph_

These are all supposed to be a fun mockery of what females have to go through. Don't expect anything of an epic.

Enjoy!

* * *

_Symptom: Bloating_

_Patient: Pepper Potts_

_Those affected: Tony Stark_

Pepper rolled over, just emerging from the deep and blissful maze that was sleep. She groaned, well aware that her clock would be going off soon. The redhead wearily pulled her eyes open and forced herself to sit up as she reached for the dastardly device that dared to yell at her so demandingly. Her feet grazed the floor, already crying in protest and the horror of being – yet again – stuffed into heels for another day with Tony Stark. Potts moaned softly and flexed her feet to wake up the muscles.

The feel of muscles flexing under such a rhythmic motion was nearly enough to lull her back to sleep. _No…have to get up_, Pepper told herself. Tony certainly wouldn't. She didn't trust him to do so on his own. He was a man – _no_, she corrected herself, _a child_ – of immense brilliance that would eagerly and easily shirk his duties without her gentle persistence.

She set her feet down on the cool floor and pushed off the bed. An elegantly serious outfit was necessary to complete the 'iron fist' image she wasn't quite feeling up to. A full-body mirror was mounted between her bed and closet. Pepper gave it a brief look to comb her hair, fixing a few fly-aways by her ear. The assistant froze.

Her view consisted of – _approximately_, she gauged – a three-quarter turn, but that was still enough to see her stomach. It wasn't round and hard like that of a pregnant woman, but it wasn't normal, either. Pepper usually prided herself on her figure; it took a lot to keep up with Tony Stark as his mind jumped from topic to topic and took his body along for the ride like a dandelion on the wind. But this…this wasn't how her stomach typically looked. _Could I be…? No. No, of course not! It would be too soon to tell! _she consoled herself.

Blue-green eyes fell on the paper calendar above her bed. Today's date was marked by a big, bright red _x_. She swallowed, hoping it wasn't true. If the calendar was right – which it was, she lamented, because she knew her body by now – her cycle was starting. Stark's assistant and lover quickly bolted to her closet.

Clothes would be a good judge of whether or not she was bloated. In the back of her mind Pepper knew she was, but she didn't want to believe it. Today's workload would be fairly light, as all the preparation and confirmations had been done beforehand, but _tonight _was important. Potential buyers were flocking to Stark tower for a fancy soiree and _damnit _she'd found the _perfect_ dress! The beginning of her period would not make her look like a bloated whale!

"Okay, it might…" she hissed softly and angrily as she struggled to zip and button the skirt at her waist. Pepper spent the next few minutes sashaying in front of the mirror to view various angles. The skirt was systematically plucked and spun as she searched for the spot that wouldn't make her look like she'd gorged herself. There was little time to sort through her numerous bottom pieces and find one that was comfortable _and _suitable for work.

The one around her hips and taut stomach would have to do. Pepper secretly undid the button of her skirt, looking around as if she'd committed something far more scandalous and appalling. Some of the tension ebbed, but the weight and sense of enormousness still remained. Realizing she'd spent too much time mourning the beginning of _that _hellacious week, Pepper bolted to the bathroom to wash her face. Playing off the beginning of her period was impossible when she stared into her newly-dried face.

Virginia Potts, like most women, retained water during their menstrual bloating. And, like most women, hers had a tendency to collect around the face. She felt like some hideous dough woman stuffed into a slender person's clothes. Buttoning up her black blazer, Pepper stepped into her shoes. Were her ankles swollen, too, or was she just imagining things?

_Now…breakfast, or no breakfast? _Pepper debated with the few spare moments she had. Her books, planner, and cell phone were waiting, neatly collected, from the night before. She decided to skip breakfast, intending to grab something from the employee kitchen instead. Not wanting to feel the water inflating her midsection slosh as she struggled up a heinous number of stairs, Potts took the elevator to the top floor of Stark Tower where Tony and the others waited. _Fine. I'm being dramatic. It won't SLOSH, but I can certainly feel it as is…_thought the woman as she toyed lazily with the light indention hinting at the unbuttoned condition of her skirt.

Tony was having a liquid breakfast when his beloved secretary entered the team kitchen. "Come along, Mr. Stark. You have work to do."

"All business today, Ms. Potts. Sexy." winked Tony as he pushed off the counter he leaned against to smile brightly at her. Tony tried not to openly frown. Pepper's face looked lightly swollen, and – if he stared hard enough – freckles that were usually on or under the curve of her jaw could be seen plainly on the side of her face. Her whole _face_ appeared rounder, actually.

"Come _on_ Tony. There are things I have to make sure you do." she reminded.

_Snappiness and slight body change, _noted the genius as he sipped his coffee. _Oh no_…

"Pep?"

"Yes Tony?"

Tony peered around at his slowly gathering comrades. Bruce was the only one in the kitchen. Steve had eaten hours earlier and was likely on his daily run. "Are you…are you pregnant?"

"I'M BLOATED, YOU JERK!" Pepper snapped, whirling around to throw the closest thing in reach. She knew better than to throw her carefully organized folder. A bagel with cream cheese was the unfortunate projectile. Bruce's protests about the improper seizure of his light breakfast were stifled by the look of sheer murder and hated in Pepper's eyes. Before Stark could looked relieved or offer something mildly sympathetic – for him being who he was, and a male, anyways – the heavily smeared bagel made contact with his face.

An imperfect and broken ring of generous cream cheese decorated his face. Tony could literally _smell _the cream cheese gluing his right nostril shut. He wiped it off as she stormed out the door, muttering something low and gravelly about how he _better _be in his office within the next half hour. A genius of Tony Stark's caliber would not take such a threat lightly.

Aware of this, Bruce felt his eyebrows rise in surprise as Tony walked the other way. Both men knew disobedience was suicide when the woman was clearly caught up in her hormonal nosedive. "Where are you going?"

Tony said nothing. Moments later he came back donning the impressive and colored armor of his hero persona. "I'm not going into that war unprepared, Bruce." Tony flipped his faceplate down and resumed his clunky stride towards the office that happened to be close to one Virginia Potts'.


	2. Liberty Ramsey: Fatigue

Avengers vs. Aunt Flow

* * *

_Patient List:_

_Pepper Potts: Bloating (victim: Tony) - Seen_

_Liberty Ramsey: Fatigue (victim: Steve) - Scheduled_

_Coriander Henson: Bleeding (victim: Bruce/Hulk)_

_Natasha Romanoff: Mood Swings (Angry) (victim: Everyone. Mainly Clint.)_

_Agent Hill: Mood Swings (Sad) (victim: Fury/Coulson)_

_Jane Foster: Lack of coordination (victim: Mostly Jane. Thor by default.)_

_(submitted character) Lyra Jenkins: Headaches/social withdrawal (victim: Loki and Fandral) - Maymayliu_

_(submitted character) Constance Grisham: Cramps (victim: Bruce Banner) – HinataElyonToph_

Thanks to darkoraclegirl for the review!

* * *

_Symptom: Fatigue_

_Patient: Liberty Ramsey_

_Those affected: Steve Rogers_

When unfolding her feet to place them on her Stark-loaned bedroom floor seemed like a task, Liberty just pushed it off. She was still adjusting to early mornings. The days of peacefully sleeping away were nonexistent with Thor's powerful, resonating steps and Tony's mischievous giggling. Whether or not another house member woke her up, or she woke up to save herself from the torment known as accidental waking, she didn't know. Contradictory to science, sipping water did nothing to wake her up.

Neither did the pleasant citrus tingling of her exfoliating face wash. Liberty accepted that it would be one of those days where she woke up late. Or caught a second wind (if she ever did). She stumbled back to her room, the pause at her door extremely dangerous and attractive. On the one hand, she could be blocking hall traffic.

On the other, well…she was still and her mind was quiet and she could _just fall back asleep_.

"Aren't _you _cheeky this early in the morning?" teased the familiar baritone of Stark.

"Why are you talking to me when you could be using those lips on Pepper?"

"Touché!" cheered Tony, more amused by her attempt at venomousness than put off. "I would, but this week the romance's kind of dodgy."

"Dodgy?"

"Pepper's, um, _aunt_ is in town. She's kind of ruining the mood."

"What?!"

"Yep."

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, _no_!

Though Liberty considered it something of a myth, the question of whether or not the bodies of females living in the same place synchronized was still up for debate. Taking into account what Tony just told her, she decided that it was not a myth. Not for her. Adjusting to a tower full of superheroes and their zany schedule nearly pushed her feminine curse from her mind. Liberty hadn't been able to tell the beginning of her cycle from unholy morning awakenings because both made her feel extremely tired.

Blood would collect between her thighs within the next few hours, she betted. Fatigue was the announcement of her womanly curse. It only worsened when its followers arrived.

"Fantastic." she found herself blurting out to Tony, "I'm going to hide for a few moments."

"I don't blame you. My work attendance has been _spotless_ this week." informed the genius softly.

"Awesome. Bye Tony." Liberty ducked back into her room. That explained why the men were acting weird. Tony, as he'd said, was highly concerned with work. Bruce, who she assumed to have gotten over his nervousness and people anxiety where the tower was concerned, double-checked before entering an area that was not the lab. Thor made great and obvious strides to lower his voice and general boisterousness.

Clint allegedly spent most of his time on the tower roof or reintroducing Steve to Manhattan. If she wasn't holed up in her room watching movies, Coriander was whisked away by her troop. Natasha was the only one _not _acting weird (or finding reasons to be out of the house). Not wanting to send her apparently capable but childish male housemates into a frenzy about _another _woman bowing to the monthly gift, Liberty intended to go about business as usual.

That meant putting on the smallest amount of makeup she allowed – mascara, eyeliner, and lip balm.

She dressed in a low-key ensemble – a blouse and stretchy black cotton leggings – before sitting at her vanity. Liberty carefully angled and traced the gray stick around her blue eyes. The first eye, her left eye, was no problem. When it came to the right side she liked to close her left eye to give herself more focus.

_Wow this feels so good…_Liberty had to admit closing her eyes felt nice. The relaxed nature of her posture as she leaned in towards the mirror also felt heavenly. "Ow! OH GOD!" she now had a gray streak running from her lash line to her temple. _Maybe today will be a mascara-only day_, considered the young redhead as she scrubbed the mistake from her face. Liberty blinked carefully and slowly as she applied mascara to the top and bottom of her upper lashes.

Slow. Steady. Eyes open. Eyes close. It was like the confused and improper awakening from a gloriously long and deep sleep.

_It's almost like I'm going back to—_

"AH!" Liberty was glad she'd capped the mascara. In her daydream of sleeping once more she'd leaned back too far. The vanity's simple wooden stool in no way measured up to her full and comfortably plush bed. As a result, she ended up sprawled on the ground. Her stomach grumbled.

Today should clearly be a 'no muss, no fuss' day.

"I'm getting something to eat." grumbled Liberty after she cleaned her face for the second time. Food would kick-start her energy, right?

Something indulgent like bacon should excite her into a state of wakefulness. The only problem was the wait. Liberty hated putting the heat on high because, though it crisped her bacon nicely, she was in the path of hot, popping grease. She was pretty low to the ground, unlike most of her housemates. Heat rolled strongly and consistently from the pan and burner as she waited patiently to flip the three pieces.

_Mmm…heat…_

"LIBERTY!"

"WHAT?!" she replied with the same volume, startle evident in her tone. Steve nearly bowled her over to commandeer the stove.

"You fell asleep at the stove." he explained, bumping her out of the way lightly with his hip. "That's incredibly dangerous!"

"I wasn't sleeping!" Liberty defended, "I was resting my eyes! I could still hear the bacon!"

"If you weren't sleeping then why was your two-pronged fork going _into _the burner?"

She had no answer for that one. Liberty managed to look sheepish. Steve's blue eyes swept over her once. Her fatigue was evident from the puffy bags beneath her eyes to the slight discoloration around the waterline of her blue peepers. It was one of the first times he'd seen her completely bare-faced.

"Why are you up, anyways?"

"Everyone's up, Steve."

"No, I mean when you look like you do."

"Are you saying I look bad?"

"I—what?! No! N-not at all!"

Liberty laughed. "I was kidding, Steve. But I'm having one of those days where I'm exhausted no matter what I do. I figured if I kept moving around long enough I'd get my second wind."

Steve made a small noise of understanding as he removed the bacon from the pan and drained the grease. "If you're still tired after breakfast we can train to help you wake up?"

"It's worth a shot." Liberty shrugged, spreading mayonnaise on a piece of bread as she crumbled bacon and layered it.

"…that's not really a healthy breakfast for someone going to train."

"Does it matter, Steve? Look who I'm fighting against!" she grinned.

"Don't sell yourself short, Liberty—"

"Oh yes, make a short joke, Steve." teased the redhead with a wink. Steve exhaled through his nose and flushed. He hadn't meant it _that_ way.

"I was about your size seventy years ago. It never stopped me from trying to scrap with the bigger guys who deserved it."

"Guess I'll adopt that idea, then. You scared me earlier and, so, you deserve it." she bit into her sandwich. It was _beyond_ scrumptious.

* * *

"Have to be a bit faster, Liberty!" admonished Steve gently, closing the space between her cheek and his fist very gently.

"But I'm so full!" whined the woman, tempted to drop her gloved hands to rub her stomach.

"You ate one sandwich!" laughed Steve, "And it wasn't even a healthy sandwich!"

"I don't need to eat as much as you!" reminded Liberty, taking advantage of her shot against the super soldier. Her hit on his lower abdominals landed but Steve hardly crumbled.

She put her hands on her hips. "You can at least pretend to feel it." snorted the girl with a smile. Steve's method for keeping her awake was working quite well. So long as she moved, that was. Standing still and bantering harmlessly allowed the adrenaline to calm. It also invited her fatigue back in.

Steve noted the slow blink threatening to hide her blue eyes. He readied himself for another round. "Fine. Try again."

Liberty tried to be fast on her feet. It wasn't really working. Hits continued to land on Steve's abdominals. "Fall. Over." grunted Liberty, doing little more than pushing on him. Punching the only part she could reach – that wasn't literally a low blow – did nothing more than deflect her hands back towards her face.

"Okay then." Steve shrugged casually, looping his arms around her as they fell backwards. Liberty yelped as Steve's massive body absorbed the brunt of the blow. She landed on his chest, legs thrown out to either side of his hips as a protective measure.

"That's not what I meant." she huffed a winding red bang from her face as Steve chuckled. The super soldier was pretty comfortable. His flesh was pliant like her bed and warm like thick blankets.

"Did this help?" Steve leaned back, gazing at the ceiling. "I've heard that exercising even on your worst of days is surprisingly good for the body. Tony said it was something like keeping a car functioning with minimal and constant work. There's times where it doesn't seem necessary, and maybe a bit stupid, but it pays off in the long run. I-I'm in no way saying you're like a—Liberty?"

His maybe-probably-not crush was sound asleep on his chest. Steve sighed, picking her up to gently carry her down the hall. Before he made it to her room he passed Bruce and Tony in the hallway. "Play too rough?" smirked Tony.

"Nope. She's tired. Liberty's been falling asleep at random all day. It's kind of weird."

"Falling asleep at random?" repeated Bruce curiously. "Uh-oh." he gave a small, amused hum.

"Uh-oh what?" Steve dared to ask.

"Fatigue is one of the various symptoms of _that_ time of the month for women. Two down and two to go." mused the scientist.

"Hope Cori's next." Tony murmured.

"Don't wish that on me." Bruce frowned lightly at Tony. "I'm a walking, anxious nerve as it is!"

"Cori's better than Natasha."

"I don't know, Tony…" Bruce began to argue lightly.

Steve excused himself to put Liberty in bed. He didn't want her to wake up if sleep was what her body really needed. "I think you're better than them all." Steve assured as he tucked her carefully into the covers. "Goodnight Liberty."


End file.
